Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity.

Friday, March 14, 2014

Kroger Dreamin'

I have had my share of strange dreams, but I recently
experienced one that was as nostalgic as it was disturbing. I found myself
shopping in an inordinately large Kroger whose only customers happened to be
people that I graduated high school with. We would speak to each other and
reminisce briefly before continuing on our way. None of us apparently found the
coincidence of an entire grocery store being populated with our graduating
class noteworthy enough to mention.

As I walked the
aisles, I perceived that many of my former classmates had begun turning into
zombies. I found this rather upsetting. Not because my friends had begun
feasting on the flesh of the living, but because they keep choosing to do so in
the middle of the aisles I needed access to. I became so upset by a
particularly inconsiderate member of the living dead that I repeatedly rammed
into them with my cart until I was able to reach a box of Cheerios.

I continued to casually glance down at my list and navigate
the aisles as utter chaos unfolded around me. Occasionally, I would run into a
fellow survivor, but instead of discussing our impending doom or the tortured
cries of our fellow shoppers we would bemoan how difficult it was to find Rotel
and continue on our way.

The gravity of the situation continued to elude me until I
had completed my list and found myself searching for an open checkout lane.
Much to my chagrin, the now soulless cashiers were uninterested in completing
my transaction and continued to ignore my repeated request to scan my Kroger
Plus card. I made a mental note to file a complaint with the manager and began
weighing my options.

Theft would obviously be frowned upon, but there was nothing
to eat at the house so I had to do something. And then it dawned on me: the
self-checkout. Fully-automated and still functioning, the self-service kiosk
would have me out of there in no time. Things went well until I reached an item
that would not scan and the screen halted the transaction and informed me that
a “Cashier Has Been Notified to Assist You.”

That was the last straw. I could make my peace with the flesh
eating-patrons and the breakdown of human civilization, but Kroger was sadly
mistaken if they thought I was going to sit there like an idiot waiting on “Debbie
S.” to come and put in her code. Sadly, this was the first time I remember
experiencing fear. Not because a zombie apocalypse was clearly underway, but
because I was going to have to drive across town to get my groceries.

It was at this point I noticed the pharmacist was lounging
behind the counter and seemed as serene as I was distraught. When I approached
him and demanded he do something about the situation, he calmly produced an
aerosol can and began spraying. Almost instantly, the zombies returned to their
previous human form and resumed their shopping as if nothing had happened. Then
I woke up.

Seeking enlightenment, I visited dreammoods.com and entered several keywords from my dream in order to determine their subconscious meaning.
The presence of a grocery store indicates an unfulfilled emotional or physical
need, but the presence of a shopping cart indicates that I am reaping the
benefits and rewards of my hard work. The presence of the undead indicates
feeling helpless and overpowered while the presence of my former classmates
indicates my need to draw on old insights in order to shed light on my current
situation. The pharmacy apparently tells me that I need to stop relying on
outside influences.

So, in summary, I am an emotionally-unfulfilled individual
being overwhelmed by the rewards of my hard work and the only remedy is to look
to my past influences while completely ignoring them. Maybe I should stop
eating Eggo waffles before bed.